novelraw Chapter 91 : Chapter 91
Chapter 91 : Chapter 91
Chapter 91. Battle (3)
Knights excelled in man-to-man combat, but they were somewhat weak when it came to exorcism.
The reason was simple: they could not wield Holy Power.
The lack of Holy Power was a massive weakness.
In a world teeming with demons, anyone wishing to live as a combat specialist absolutely needed anti-demon measures.
Most often, holy water was used.
The same went for Yuri.
She had secretly coated her blade with the highest-grade holy water.
It was for the sake of facing White Horn.
Fortunately, White Horn had not noticed.
As Yuri carved wounds into his body, she had spread the holy water into them.
Now the backlash was showing.
When she pulled the trigger with Aura, all the holy water absorbed into Mapheltan’s body boiled.
Miasma and Divinity clashed.
Explosive reactions erupted nonstop.
Yuri immediately widened the distance between them.
She could not afford to get caught in the backlash.
If she entered the blast range, her fragile human body would vanish without a trace.
From afar, she watched Mapheltan.
Black smoke surged into the sky, and a pool of pitch-black blood spread across the ground.
Corroded flesh plopped into the blood one piece at a time.
Mapheltan shuddered in agony.
“Kh… haaahk!”
He was clearly dying.
Relief slowly filled Yuri’s face.
As expected, the highest-grade holy water was showing tremendous effect.
The higher the demon, the greater the holy water’s brilliance.
Yuri wiped away her cold sweat.
She was truly glad she had managed to obtain holy water.
The world had grown restless, so despite the impropriety, she had begged a Saintess for it. And it had paid off greatly.
Without holy water, Yuri surely would not have survived.
She traced the sign of the cross.
“Great Saint Marziel. This humble lamb thanks you for your infinite grace.”
Mapheltan collapsed onto one knee.
His wings were shredded, his left eye closed, and even the remaining one flickered faintly.
Even as an Apostle, White Horn now seemed beyond recovery.
It only remained to finish him.
Yuri cautiously approached White Horn.
Suddenly, a lazy voice rang out.
“My, my. You really got him good.”
Yuri turned her head at once. Tension flared again on her face.
She had forgotten about Hakain.
He was still lounging before the castle gate, puffing on his pipe.
Yuri spoke to him.
“White Horn’s fate is sealed. Leave now. If you go quietly, I will overlook your heresy.”
She knew she couldn’t handle Hakain.
She genuinely wished he would just leave.
He smiled lazily.
“So the knight-lady fears me, eh?”
Her expression tightened.
“I merely wish to avoid a pointless fight.”
Hakain flicked the ash.
“Don’t worry. I won’t interfere. Unless things get truly interesting, I’ll stay out.”
Yuri’s eyes sharpened.
“What do you mean by that?”
Hakain gestured toward Mapheltan.
“It ain’t over till it’s over. Never heard the saying?”
Yuri turned her gaze back to Mapheltan.
Her face slowly froze.
“Wh… what is this…”
His body was regenerating.
The pool of blood returned to his body, and new flesh grew across his torn wings.
The dim eye regained its hue, glowing red once more.
Mapheltan rose to his feet.
He flexed his fists, checking his restored body.
‘Not a bad performance.’
It was the power of his Authority, Soul Severance and Restoration. The ability to recover the flesh at the cost of his soul.
It was the very reason Yohan had survived after being pierced by the Holy Spear Espada.
Though awakened some time ago, this was Mapheltan’s first time using it.
He found its performance highly satisfying.
‘Though my soul’s been shaved down a little.’
The side effect was likely ‘loss of humanity.’
He would need to be careful with its use.
For now, though, he felt nothing.
Mapheltan smirked at Yuri.
“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
She could not hide her agitation. She wanted to deny his resurrection.
“I—I drenched you in holy water, so how…”
He let out a short laugh.
“If holy water could slay an Apostle, do you think you’d have suffered so for 500 years?”
Even in his early state, an Apostle was still an Apostle.
A mere knight, not even a Holy Knight, could never slay one.
Despair spread across Yuri’s face.
She still had a few tricks left, but none that would work on an Apostle before her.
“…Damn it.”
Was this the end? Her fists trembled violently.
Mapheltan spoke calmly.
“You did well enough. I’ve gauged the level of a first-class knight.”
This battle experience would be a valuable asset.
He had learned quite a bit.
Never forget: it isn’t over until the end.
Always account for the enemy’s last resort.
‘That was close.’
Who would have thought she’d coat her blade with holy water? Truly unexpected.
He wouldn’t fall for the same method again.
Mapheltan stepped toward Yuri.
She gripped her sword tightly.
Though defeat was almost certain, she had no thought of surrender.
A knight could not bow to a demon.
Her eyes blazed with renewed resolve.
She aimed her rapier at Mapheltan.
“…I’ll resist until I die, and even beyond death.”
Mapheltan shook his head.
“No, your role is over. Rest now.”
At that moment, a dull impact sounded.
The Cursed Spear he had hurled earlier returned and struck Yuri’s nape.
The supplementary property of the Holy Spear Espada remained even after it became the Cursed Spear.
Like Espada, Turabak always returned to its master’s hand.
Struck by the spear, Yuri collapsed.
She had fainted.
Hakain rose to his feet.
“I’ll go deal with the rest.”
Yuri wasn’t the only one of the royal guards.
They all had to be subdued.
Mapheltan nodded.
“Do it quietly.”
The remaining guards were in the village.
And there were many eyes there.
Though the castle had been emptied, Yohan could not bring himself to drive away the villagers.
He couldn’t leave them sleeping on a mountain at night.
Hakain replied.
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it discreetly.”
He could be trusted.
Mapheltan headed straight into the keep.
Depending on the situation, he might need to aid Ilea.
But he quickly abandoned that thought.
The battle between Ilea and Gawain was beyond his ability to intervene.
He realized the moment he opened the gate.
The entire interior of the keep had changed.
All the stairs were destroyed, and the concept of floors no longer existed.
It was a hollow space from the first floor up to the roof.
Debris kept crumbling down.
The sound of breaking and collapsing echoed endlessly.
High above his head, dazzling light clashed incessantly.
Divinity and Mana collided.
His skin prickled painfully.
Mapheltan gazed at the air.
Something shot about like an arrow, but he couldn’t even perceive its afterimage.
He let out a laugh.
‘I can’t even comprehend it.’
He had thought himself stronger—but it was a delusion.
Compared to those two monsters, he was endlessly weak.
For now, there was nothing he could do to aid Ilea.
He would only be a burden.
Mapheltan turned back toward the gate.
Just as he was about to leave, a tearing sound split the air.
He turned his head.
A flash of light.
The moment he perceived it, something was already right before him.
“…White Horn.”
It was Gawain. Rage burned in his eyes as he hurled his fist.
A white punch barreled toward him.
He had no way to dodge or resist.
If struck, he would vanish without a trace.
A crushing despair seized him.
Scenes of his life flashed through his mind.
The oncoming punch seemed to slow.
‘…What is this?’
It wasn’t his imagination.
Gawain had truly frozen in midair.
Time itself seemed to stop.
Mapheltan’s perception couldn’t catch up.
Then, a familiar bright voice rang out.
“I forgot to tell you—don’t open the gate for the next few hours.”
A swirl of blue light swept him up, carrying him into the air.
An instant later, Gawain’s punch smashed into the wall.
Debris exploded everywhere.
Time flowed normally again.
Gawain looked up into the air.
Ilea and Mapheltan landed atop a chandelier.
Gawain’s face twisted like a demon.
He kicked off the ground, but couldn’t leap up.
Entangling threads of Mana bound him in place.
It was a binding spell to hold him briefly.
Mapheltan looked at Ilea.
“…What do you mean by not opening the gate?”
“I’ve cut off the castle from the outside. If the gate opens, the barrier will unravel.”
At last, Mapheltan understood why the keep had been so quiet.
The lord’s castle was now an entirely independent space.
No sound or shock from within could escape.
Such precautions were essential to fight Gawain.
Without the barrier, the whole Miyatro territory would have been reduced to ruins.
Mapheltan swallowed dryly.
“I see… the gate was the barrier’s core. I was reckless.”
Ilea shook her head.
“No, it’s my fault for not telling you. But hurry, leave now. There’s no time.”
Before the binding spell expired, Mapheltan had to escape.
“And you? Will you be alright?”
Ilea was clearly exhausted. None of her usual composure remained.
“Don’t worry about me. I won’t let you down.”
Mapheltan wanted to help her, but there was nothing he could do.
The best thing now was to disappear quickly.
He leapt from the chandelier and flew toward the gate.
“I’ll wait outside. Don’t push yourself too hard.”
Ilea gave a faint smile and waved.
“See you soon.”
Mapheltan left the keep.
***
A long time passed.
The sun had already risen.
Yohan sat blankly across from the gate.
He had thought deeply all through the night.
Even now, his thoughts swirled endlessly.
“…Hah.”
The crushing sense of helplessness wouldn’t leave him.
As he clicked his tongue, the thoughts snapped.
The gate groaned open with rusty noise.
From the pitch-black interior, a figure emerged, trudging forward.
Yohan leapt to his feet.
The man was drenched head to toe in blood.
It was Gawain.
Could it be that Ilea had been defeated? An almost unthinkable thought.
Yohan gripped his spear tightly.
Gawain slowly raised his arm.
A suffocating pressure swept across Yohan’s body.
But then, Gawain suddenly halted. His body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
From the ruined keep, another figure appeared.
“You waited long, didn’t you? Took me more trouble than expected.”
Ilea smiled wearily.
Moments later, she too collapsed.